


Musings of an Author

by CrystalMoon884



Category: Original Work
Genre: Everyone should be able to relate this to their life about something, Gen, Poetry that I wrote, kind of sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 23:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8918389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalMoon884/pseuds/CrystalMoon884
Summary: “Writing is my stress relief.” I tell myself as I worry about my endings, my beginnings and how the world will see my characters.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is something that I wrote because I felt like it, and I thought that I needed to put it into words.  
> I've been feeling down lately, and having a way to get it out is always nice.  
> Enjoy!

“Writing is my stress relief.” I tell myself as I worry about my endings, my beginnings and how the world will see my characters.

 

“Writing warms my heart.” I tell myself as I nearly break down in tears after killing off someone that I actually came to care about in the end.

 

“Writing makes me feel better about myself.” I tell myself as I get angry at myself for not getting the scene right after redoing it ten times.

 

"Writing helps me find myself." I tell myself as I forget my goals in life under the unending paragraphs filled with people and places that I don't care about.

 

"Writing draws me closer to the ones I love." I tell myself as I push away my family and friends just to type a few sentences before passing out.

 

“Writing isn’t hurting me.” I tell myself as I stay up past the point of getting eight hours of sleep, as I skip meals and I drive myself crazy.

 

“Writing is something you need to stop doing.” They tell me, with their lead tongues and harsh words.

 

“Writing is a dumb hobby that has taken over your life.” They tell me while they play in their fantasy worlds.

 

“Writing only makes the pain worse.” They tell me while they try to take away my escape.

 

“Writing might just be stupid.” I tell myself, beginning to see their point.

 

“You should just stop.” They all say, as they give me more papers to read, more tests to take, more things to worry about.

 

“You have no future.” They say as they force me into a world where wanting an escape from it all seems to be a crime.

 

“You’re not going to succeed.” They say.

 

"I'll only fail." I say, defeated.

 

“You’re doing a good job.” You say, with a tiny voice.

 

“Please don’t stop.” You say, getting louder.

 

“I like what you do.” You say, and I listen to you.

 

“But they say I can’t do it.” I tell you.

 

“Why should you listen to them?” You ask me, and I see now how foolish it was to listen to anyone who only wants to see me fail.

 

“But what if they’re right? What if I fail?” I ask, my voice smaller than their faith in me.

 

“But what if they’re wrong? What if you make it?” You ask, and I don’t know what to say.

 

“Writing is my stress relief.” I remind myself, holding your words close to my heart.

 

“Writing warms my heart.” I say as I watch you smile while you read what I put my heart into.

 

“Writing makes me feel better about myself.” I say as I see the people who doubted my slowly walk away.

 

"Writing helps me find myself." I say as I feel my heart beating with inspiration and happiness in my body and mind.

 

"Writing draws me closer to the ones I love." I say as I model my characters after the people I hold dearest on the Earth.

 

“Writing isn’t hurting me.” I say as I sew together my wounds with words that can solve all problems.

 

“You can’t do it. This is a fluke. Give up now before you make a fool of yourself!” They say in a massive roar, but it falls on deaf ears.

 

“You did it.” You tell me, and I know that I did it.

 

“Writing is my life.” I say, taking your hand, the person who showed me the way with your words.

**Author's Note:**

> For the past week, I've been running myself ragged trying to please everyone with what I have been writing. My parents took notice, and so did my teachers and friends. They were less than kind, and then my old friend walked back into my life and gave me some much needed support.  
> Thank you, Crazy. It means the world to have the support that you've given.


End file.
